


it's always darkest before the dawn

by superlyns



Category: Super Junior, Super Junior-M
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-12 15:31:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2115159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superlyns/pseuds/superlyns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>zhou mi falls in love (slowly and gracefully) and feels the holes kyuhyun bores in his back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's always darkest before the dawn

> **every boyfriend is the one unless otherwise proven,**  
>  **the good are never easy, the easy never good,**  
>  **and love it never happens like you think it really should.**  
>  **deception and perfection are wonderful traits,**  
>  **one will breed love, the other hate.**

  
“Have you ever thought about giving up?”

“Many times. You don’t want to know.”

(Zhou Mi wonders, sometimes, what it would have been like to be loved — _genuinely_ loved, adored by all the fans, sapphire blue lightsticks glistening in the dark during his solo stages and crowds chanting his name. He usually thinks about it during Super Shows when he sees thousands and thousands of fans holding up the same banner for Hyukjae’s birthday or when everyone’s screaming “사랑해요 김희철”.

When he gets on stage during the ending, he gives his brightest smile to the fans he spots in the crowd — _his_ fans.)

 

 

“Tell me.”

Zhou Mi sighs and bites down on his lower lip but Sungmin grabs his hand and squeezes it hard.

“ _Tell me._ ”

“I’ve always been too eager, I’ve always set my expectations way too high. In our line of work, it’s not the best attitude to have and I’ve learned it the hard way--“

And so Zhou Mi tells him.

 

 

“You can’t help but want to give up at some point. It’s like they build you up too high and tell you things you exaggerate in your mind, convincing yourself that one of those days, you’ll be on top as well. But there comes a day where you’re just sick of what they’re feeding you and you try, you try _so_ hard, fainting on the hardwood floor of the practice room and grinning at yourself deliriously in the mirror because you haven’t slept nor eaten in more than 30 hours and—”

Sungmin grips his hand tighter.

“—the only thing that keeps you going is the thought of this handful of fans scattered around the world coming to concerts just to see _you_ in all your 13.5 minutes of presence on stage. It’s funny how something so small can keep you alive.”

Another pause and:

“It’s okay, we’ve all wanted to give up at some point.” Sungmin says and Zhou Mi sees the look in his eyes and the unspoken _I’m here for you_ that comes with it as Sungmin lets go of his hand to wrap his arms around his waist instead.

 

 

It’s funny how such small things can keep you alive, Zhou Mi thinks.

 

 

 

♕

 

 

 

It all begins when Sungmin and Hyukjae are added to the line-up of Super Junior M.

Zhou Mi watches Sungmin’s shoulders slump as the announcement is made, sees the disappointment in his eyes.

“Sungmin, I understand what you feel…“

“How could you?” Sungmin snaps back without missing a beat. “Sure, you’re also part of sub-unit but at least you can speak the language. I cannot speak a goddamn word of Mandarin, I’ve wasted _years_ learning Japanese and out of the blue they decide that _hey, wouldn’t it be a good idea to have Sungmin record songs in Mandarin?_ Great fucking idea.”

 

 

“You’re a fast learner,” Zhou Mi says one night. He had offered his help to Sungmin a few days after the announcement had been made — Sungmin had knocked on the door of his dorm with a box of his favorite tea in one hand and pork buns in the other and Zhou Mi had forgiven him before he had even opened his mouth to apologize.

“I’m not. It took me three days to memorize how to write my own name,” Sungmin snorts.

“That’s because you didn’t have me as your private tutor at the time.” Zhou Mi grins.

 

 

(“You’re a new member of Super Junior M, how does it feel?”

Sungmin — no, it’s _Shengmin_ here — answers with what he’s already said on countless variety shows: “It feels amazing, I’m really happy to be here in Taiwan with our fans!”

 

 

But, deep down, the first thing to pop up into his mind when he’s asked about his addition to the line-up of Super Junior M is how Zhou Mi’s breath feels on his neck all the times the latter helps him with his Mandarin, or the smell of his cologne, or the way his lips curve when he smiles or—details that he definitely can’t share in an interview and would rather keep to himself anyway.)

 

 

 

♕

 

 

 

There’s a song that goes “It’s your god-forsaken right to be loved, loved, loved, loved, loved” and it’s one of Sungmin’s favorites. Zhou Mi can’t recall the number of times he’s heard Sungmin play it on his guitar, singing along softly as they sat on the balcony of their Taiwan dorm. He had never really paid attention to the lyrics though, they just kind of hit him tonight and he suddenly speaks up.

“Let’s get away tonight. Have some drinks, go to a club, hang out in the street, look for ridiculous tourist gifts in stores, whatever.”

He really doesn’t care what they’ll end up doing. He just wants to feel loved, to _be_ loved. It’s really nothing more than a need to get someone’s attention solely focused on him. Sungmin would usually consider that behavior as highly egoist on anyone else — but not Zhou Mi. Taiwan might be nicer to him but the scars of the past are still hiding underneath, running deep and lacing every other word Zhou Mi speaks, every other look he casts at Sungmin.

It’s not guilt that Sungmin feels, it’s not compassion or empathy either — it might be love, who knows, they’ve never put a word on their relationship.

“Okay, let’s go.”

Sungmin laces his fingers with Zhou Mi’s, presses his body against his back as they cram in the bus, wipes the corner of Zhou Mi’s mouth with his fingers as they eat at a night market, kisses him on the lips and dips a hand into his boxers in some darkened street before Zhou Mi says “no” and even in the darkness Sungmin can see the look on Zhou Mi’s face. _Not here, not like this,_ it says.

Back at the dorm, Zhou Mi lets Sungmin give him a blowjob, keeping one hand on Sungmin’s shoulder and the other over his own mouth as he tries not to scream.

 

 

 

♕

 

 

 

All good things come to an end and Zhou Mi has to turn the page on quiet fucks on silky sheets amongst other things like going for dim-sum on Sundays and feeding each other with their chopsticks and Sungmin’s messy Chinese handwriting when he happens to leave him notes in the morning.

 

 

 

♕

 

 

 

Months go by and there are texts exchanged and Skype calls but no rushed backstage blowjobs when they bump into each other at Super Shows because Zhou Mi doesn’t want it to be like this. He wants _it,_ whatever it is that they have, to be perfect and to go just the way he wants it.

Zhou Mi has always strived for perfection yet never reached it — at least that’s what he thinks.

 

 

 

♕

 

 

 

There’s a knock on the door. Zhou Mi lifts his head up from the notebook he’s bent over, drops the pen he’d been clutching for the past few minutes and crosses the small distance to the door of his hotel room. This time, there was no red-eye flight to catch, no need to usher into a van as soon as the concert ended to fly back to China. Zhou Mi had been granted with an hotel room and a grand 6.5 hours of sleep.

“Hey, I thought I’d stop by with food,” Sungmin says, raising the two plastic bags he’s carrying.

“Sure, come in,” Zhou Mi answers quietly as he closes the door behind him and goes back to his previous spot at the desk, arms folded over his chest and brows furrowed.

“You okay?” Sungmin asks, biting down on his lower lip, concern showing on his face.

“Yeah I guess I’m just... Tired.”

There’s a look in his eyes that Sungmin doesn't like because he can’t quite decipher it. He’s usually good at this whole reading and understanding people ordeal but Zhou Mi’s look is somewhere in between nostalgic, blank, sad and… Hopeless. And Sungmin doesn’t really know what to do of this. Usually he’d go for a pat on the back and a few whispered sweet nothings and Zhou Mi would lean onto his chest and Sungmin’s face would fit perfectly on Zhou Mi’s shoulder and— Zhou Mi turns his gaze away from Sungmin’s and Sungmin _knows_ that something is up.

“You can talk to me, you know.”

He hates the way his throats already feels tight and how he’s expecting the worst — he’s used to it by now though, it’s just part of the ups and downs of being part of an idol group: you sometimes get woken up in the middle of the night by a phonecall telling you that four of your bandmates have been in a car accident, or you have to comfort a bandmate after a particularly harsh concert where half the crowd wanted him to get off stage, or you have to hold back another bandmate’s hair as he empties his stomach out in the toilet bowl out of despair. There are way too many difficult situations he’s had to handle over the years and sometimes he wonders how he got through it all.

“Is it your voice? I heard you went to the hospital again.”

Zhou Mi doesn’t answer and Sungmin decides to get closer, kneeling down on the floor and putting his hands on top of Zhou Mi’s knees, looking up to him and scrutinizing his face.

“Is it—”

“Sometimes I just feel like none of it is worth it,” Zhou Mi suddenly declares, eyes closed and breath hitching. “Do you ever think back on all those years? From training to debuting and through all those promotions, concerts, fansigns and other events you’re dragged to. Sometimes I just wonder if I made the right choice.”

There are a million things Sungmin wants to say at this particular moment but none of them feels right — “I do too” / “You need to know that it’s all worth it” / “I hate seeing you like this” / “It’ll be okay” — because he’s already said them countless times. There’s one hanging at the tip of his tongue, one he wishes he could say — “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Stop trying so hard. You’re perfect just the way you are.” — but he never dares, never opens his mouth and speaks what he really thinks.

 

 

 

♕

 

 

 

Kyuhyun sends him an e-mail. Zhou Mi feels like it’s been ages since they’ve last seen each other let alone _talked_ together. “Hello”s and “how have you been”s quickly thrown at each other backstage at yet another Super Show 4 don’t count. Nor do the glances they cast at each other during all of the 13.5 minutes that Zhou Mi gets to spend on stage.

The email’s written in pinyin and it’s full of mistakes that Zhou Mi probably used to find cute but it doesn’t even bring a smile to his face today.

_Come see my musical!!! I wear sassy outfits and charm all the girls in it!!_ Kyuhyun wrote at the end and Zhou Mi resists the urge to smash his laptop screen.

Zhou Mi doesn’t answer. Kyuhyun sends him another e-mail five days letter ( _Yah!! Answer me._ With an e-ticket for his musical attached.) and another one eleven days later ( _Do I need to become your travel agent?_ There’s a timetable for Shenzhen-Seoul flights attached to this one). Something tugs at Zhou Mi’s heartstrings and he wonders what it is. Guilt? Nostalgia? Somehow, whenever he tries to bring back to his mind memories of him and Kyuhyun all that comes up are images of Sungmin. Sungmin at Kenton beach, Sungmin eating dumplings in Taiwan, Sungmin’s legs dangling off the mattress, Sungmin’s smile after they had sex.

There was a time when Kyuhyun used to be the only thing on his mind, Zhou Mi thinks. A time when Zhou Mi would correct Kyuhyun’s Mandarin and lean down to whisper translations into his ear and lace their fingers together during interviews on national TV. (A time where he’d write sappy love songs at night and close his notebook in haste when Kyuhyun would enter his bedroom and crash onto his bed without ceremony after hours spent gaming.)

Maybe this is what getting over a crush feels like. Maybe this is what learning from your mistakes feels like. If Zhou Mi were to write an autobiography, there would probably be an entire section entitled “Mistakes to avoid”:

1\. Do not fall in love with a Korean bandmate.

2\. Do not enter the Chinese-speaking sub-unit of a Korean boyband.

3\. Do not try to convince yourself that one day, half the arena will be filled with lightboards flashing your name and fans holding support banners for you.

4\. Do not let your sleep-deprived slash gamer slash Korean bandmate sleep in your bed.

5\. Do not fake smiling.

5.1 Aforementioned Korean bandmate can see right through it.

And so on.

Zhou Mi’s phone buzzes and he picks it up.

_FROM 성민이♥  
Wǒ xiǎngniàn nǐ_.

In hindsight, Zhou Mi thinks as he unlocks his phone, fingers swiping over his lock screen picture, he probably never learned from his mistakes.

What’s the use of being young if you can’t make mistakes, he tries to convince himself as he types back a reply.

 

 

 

♕

 

 

 

Zhou Mi falls in love (slowly and gracefully) and feels the holes Kyuhyun bores in his back. _You were the one who rejected me_ , Zhou Mi tries to say with his eyes as they sit in front of each other at breakfast. Kyuhyun’s eyes are as devoid of emotions as ever.

Zhou Mi takes it as a cue to kiss Sungmin on the lips as he arrives.

When Zhou Mi had fallen in love with Kyuhyun it had been everything but slow and graceful. It had been messy, rushed and careless, like pork chops shoved into his mouth by a raven-haired and scrawny looking boy with an angel voice, like waking up to the sound of a computer mouse clicking, like too much teeth and not enough lube and “Kuixian, _faster_ , ngh” and— Sungmin scrapes his lower lip with his teeth _just so_ and Kyuhyun drops his teacup on the floor.

“I’m pretty sure this was genuine china, Kyuhyun.” Zhou Mi says, hand curled around Sungmin’s hip.

“Fuck you.” Kyuhyun bites back.

 

 

 

♕

 

 

 

Fate has never been Zhou Mi’s best friend and he’s reminded of it again when he bumps into Kyuhyun in the elevator a few days later.

“I could have been there for you too. I would have loved to.”

Kyuhyun leans again the elevator’s wall, looking way too nonchalant for his own good with his eyes closed and arms crossed against his chest.

“Who do you smile for, Mi? Sometimes, I wonder if you’re smiling for others or for yourself. It’s hard to tell. Either way, you always smile so brightly that—”

“What are you trying to do, Kyuhyun?” Zhou Mi snaps impatiently.

Turn back the clock a few years and it would have been _Kuixian_ , another hotel in China and a lonesome “I love you” whispered in the darkness of Egyptian cotton sheets shared for the last time. Kyuhyun leaves without a word and never turns back.

There are things Kyuhyun wants to say, things he has thought about, things that kept him up awake at night. Kyuhyun loves clean-cut endings, he loves when he can leave without a lump in his throat and move on with his life easily. Kyuhyun would have loved closure. Maybe he should have arranged for this conversation to happen over a plate of pork chops and maybe he should have let that horrendous hair dye fade and have his hair go back to black, just to wrap things up nicely.

The elevator dings and the doors open.

Kyuhyun has always been good at leaving without a word.

 

 

 

♕

 

 

 

It’s not that what Jungsu’s saying is uninteresting, far from that, but somehow Sungmin spaces out in the middle of their conversation and stares at his reflection in the window of the van instead.

He has always preferred staying silent over speaking. It was hard, fitting into Super Junior, looking for a space he could fit in, a persona he could adopt, and sometimes it feels like he’s _just_ starting to feel at ease after six whole years. But he’s never really complained and went on with it, as if avoiding problems would make them go away. It’s the same strategy he’s adopting right now: there’s something wrong, but he won’t go and poke it with a stick, he’ll just stay here and wait. Just like he never spoke up about his insecurities, just like he never really told anyone — except for a few whispers laced with sleep late at night — that he deemed himself unworthy of a place in Super Junior.

Everyone in Super Junior has one or several talents. Kyuhyun can leave without a word effortlessly. Sungmin can remain silent for days.

Talents, coping mechanisms, whatever. Words are just words and words fail us, sometimes.

“Sungmin?” Jungsu’s voice reaches Sungmin’s ears. It seems to be coming from far far away, from a land where words don’t exist and genuine china teacups don’t fall on the floor in breakfast lounges of Chinese five-stars hotels and— “Sungmin, are you alright? We’ve arrived at the stadium, we need to go in for rehearsals.”

 

 

 

♕

 

 

 

Zhou Mi’s fingers brush past Sungmin’s hip, it’s a blink and you miss it moment but in the corner of his eye Zhou Mi sees Kyuhyun staring at them. A smile on his lips and a dark look in his eyes. Kyuhyun’s not the only who can read smiles and he’s never been a really good faker. Zhou Mi sees right through it and lets his fingers linger on Sungmin’s ribs this time.

Sungmin shivers and it’s both because of Zhou Mi’s touch and Kyuhyun’s gaze. He shifts, stands on his tiptoes and whispers into Zhou Mi’s ear, calm syllables rolling off his tongue: “We need to talk.” Talking sounds a bit risky and Sungmin doesn’t really want to because he’s afraid of messing up, afraid of not knowing what to say, afraid of the answers and fear breeds nothing but fear, all turning into another vicious cycle he can’t escape. Sungmin’s already trapped in a vicious cycle — going silent in the middle of conversations, staring at his reflection in the window of the van, staying for hours in the bathroom with his knees brought up to his chest — and as far as vicious cycles go, one is more than enough.

They close the door of some non-descript room behind them and Sungmin speaks up while he still has the nerve to do so.

“What’s going on?”

He doesn’t need to say more because Zhou Mi understands — yet doesn’t answer.

“ _Tell me._ ”

Zhou Mi thinks about locked bathroom doors and silence and unanswered texts and phone calls. Glimpses of the past few weeks tumble altogether and he’s facing Sungmin whose chin is trembling and fists are clenched tight at his sides and it’s like that night all over again.

“I’ve always been too eager, I’ve always set my expectations way too high--“

Except this time the story’s different. It’s not about practice rooms and choreographies and melodies and song lyrics and standing on stage and hospital stays. It’s about a friendship turned into crush turned into love turned into heartbreak and a plate of pork chops and wanting more than someone can give you.

“Being eager is never good.”

“I know. I’ve learned it the hard way as well.”

Zhou Mi stops talking — and anyway, he’s reached the part of the story Sungmin knows about — and starts listening instead. He grabs Sungmin’s hand into his, squeezes and “ _Tell me_ ”.

“Insecurities can eat you up. Well, they did as far as I’m concerned. I trained for so long and it seemed to me that I’d never get the chance to debut. When I finally debuted, it somehow felt even more difficult than before--“

Sungmin tells him.

 

 

 

♕

 

 

 

Zhou Mi presses his lips against Sungmin’s, fingers threading through his hair and body shivering just before Sungmin lets go and climbs on stage.

It’s still so strange how something so small can keep you alive.

**Author's Note:**

> a companion playlist to this fic can be found here: http://heygotcha.livejournal.com/4262.html


End file.
